


Au Revoir, Madame

by serotoninwife



Category: Gentleman Bastard Sequence - Scott Lynch
Genre: (oviedo), Ezri Delmastro origin story!, F/F, F/M, also minor trigger warning for brief perversion and non explicit non consensual touching, also zamira’s past, also!! in this a nicoran accent is a french accent, and also i named her husband after the HOTTIE in the spanish princess on starz, and ezri’s mother tongue is french, bc scott has confirmed that she’s a widow, i tagged underaged but it’s a brief mention of ezri becoming sexually active around the age of 17, one of my many takes on ezri’s past, so nicora is just this universe’s version of france, the poison orchid, the sea of brass, zamira is married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serotoninwife/pseuds/serotoninwife
Summary: I am not Ezriane anymore. I am Ezri now. A Therin girl aboard a pirate ship, and I pray to Iono that I will never have to be Ezriane again..+AKA one of my many takes of Ezri’s pirating origin story (all characters belong to our lord and savior of fantasy, Scott Lynch)
Relationships: Ezri Delmastro/Jean Tannen, Ezri Delmastro/Original Female Character, Ezri Delmastro/Original Male Character, Zamira Drakasha/Original Male Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Au Revoir, Madame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theladyofcamelias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyofcamelias/gifts).



> Important note: The Nicoran accent is a French accent in this fic! Also I picture Ezri’s mother tongue as French:) Also please don’t roast me for any horrible French, it’s been a while

The Nicoran girl on the scrub watch was younger than anybody else Captain Drakasha had ever taken aboard the Poison Orchid. She must have been fifteen, and was definitely no older than seventeen, but she could handle herself better than anyone else from _La Dame Redoutée_ , the Nicoran naval ship they had seized from Jereshti pirates, who had seized it from the Nicoran navy. Drakasha has been surprised at her skill in combat— the girl was a child two inches shy of five feet, but had managed to seriously injure three of the best Orchids before the _Dame’s_ surrender. She’d shouted several Nicoran curses and insults during the brief battle, but hadn’t said a word since.

Zamira raised her hand above her brow to shield her eyes from the unforgiving afternoon sun as she watched the girl tying and re-tying the knots that secured the canvas sails in place. The girl straddled the mast, absentmindedly swinging her bare feet as she finished yet another perfect sheet bend, pausing to tuck a wayward lock of curls back into the lazy bun before curiously undoing the knot and starting again. The Syresti captain furrowed her brows, utterly perplexed.

“Hey girl!” She yelled up at her. The Nicoran paused, yet did not lift her head. “Up there on the mast!” This got her full attention, and the child looked down at her captain.

“Yes, Captain?” She asked, her accent sounding shockingly Therin. Zamira supposed she must have been practicing as she climbed the rope ladder up to where the girl was seated. The captain inspected her work before looking up at her curiously.

“Finish the sheet bend you were just working on.” She demanded, and the girl paused, hesitant and unsure as she slowly grabbed the rope, uncertain of what to do. Zamira then realized that the girl probably didn’t know what a sheet bend was called in Therin. “ _C’est une ligne nœud_.” The girl began to nod, but then froze.

“I don’t know what that means.” She said, her Therin accent near perfect, save for the _don’t_. She’d need more practice weeding out the Nicoran for that vowel sound.

“D’you forget that you’re pretending to be some type of Therin?” The captain asked, a welcome salty breeze hitting the dark skin of her face as the Nicoran girl blushed. She opened her mouth to make an excuse, but Zamira hushed her with a wave of her free hand, the other gripping the hemp of the mast ladder tight. “If you’re on the run from the Nicoran officials, you don’t have to worry about anybody on board this ship turning you in.” The girl nodded, visibly relaxing before turning back to the sheet bend, which she finished flawlessly in a few seconds time.

“Is zat to your satisfaction?” She inquired, not bothering to cover her accent this time, although the captain did notice that she spoke much more softly than she had before.

“Yes. However I must ask, why have you been up here for nigh on an hour when there are only twenty knots to check and re-tie on this mast and you can do one in the span of a few seconds?” The Syresti captain raised her brows as she spoke, causing an even deeper blush to grace the cream colored skin of the Nicoran girl.

“ _J’ai désol—_ I’m sorry, madame. I will come down if you ask me.” She muttered, head hanging low. Zamira furrowed her brows.

“I’m not angry, girl, not yet. Just curious.” She insisted. The Nicoran suddenly looked afraid, and the captain realized that she must think that she was tricking her somehow. “This isn’t a mind game, lass. I won’t lie to you about being angry. You’ll _know_ if I’m angry. Why are you staying up here?” The girl bit her plump lower lip as she fiddled with a stray thread of her white tunic.

“There is a man from ze Jereshti crew who... looks at me. He watches me. Looks at my _chemise_ as if he can see through it. I sink sometimes he can. Last night, while he sought I was sleeping, he tried to... to touch me. I kicked ze woman next to me and she sought it was him, and yelled until he left. So I stayed up here, so he cannot look at me and sink about touching me again.” Her voice was a near whisper by the time she finished. A tear dropped from her eye and landed on the hemp. Zamira nodded.

“Point him out for me?” She murmured. The girl looked around before pointing out a Vadran working on the deck waxing. Zamira nodded before jerking her head toward the rope ladder, indicating that she wanted the Nicoran girl to come down with her. The Syresti captain went first, the girl following quickly behind. Zamira hopped off of the last rung, and placed a supportive hand on the girl’s waist to help her down before motioning her to follow as she marched over to the Vadran waxing the deck. He looked up at the captain before standing at attention, his gaze briefly flicking over to the Nicoran standing behind her.

“What are you want, Captain?” He asked, his Therin as broken as his accent was Vadran.

“What’s your name?” She asked coolly. The man shifted on his feet uncomfortably before responding.

“Anton Kirov, Captain.” He said, his blue eyes lingering on the girl for a moment, before Zamira stepped forward, a mere few inches between them.

“Anton, you’ve been staring at that girl for some time now. She says last night you tried to touch her while she slept. I made it very clear that while aboard this ship, you don’t get cozy with anyone who does not want to get cozy with you. I also made it very clear that I have zero tolerance for any ignorance of my rules.” She spoke softly, her nostrils flaring, her calm façade fading to the anger bubbling beneath the surface. Anton began sweating, his eyes darting around wildly as dozens of curious eyes began to watch the scene before them.

“She— She did not say she did not want me touching her.” He stammered just before the Syresti captain bunched up the front of his tunic in her first.

“A lack of a no is not the presence of a yes, Anton.” She growled before shoving him over the edge. Zamira readjusted her coat and smoothed her tunic before turning back to the Nicoran girl.

“His gaze won’t be bothering you anymore.” She said. The curious eyes that had just watched the scene unfold were now all focused back on their work. The child nodded gratefully before Zamira examined her with narrowed eyes. Her tunic was thin, and if she broke out a sweat, likely wouldn’t cover much. It could only be a matter of time before wondering eyes made predators of others on the crew. “Come with me.” She said, heading to her cabin. The girl was hesitant in following, but followed nonetheless. Drakasha opened a wooden chest of clothes, sifted through until she found a small leather vest she had worn herself when she’d first joined the Syresti navy. The child had closed the door behind her and was waiting patiently until the captain stood.

“Here. Put this on.” Zamira said, tossing the garment to her. She put it on quickly, lacing up the front with ease. Her finger nails were well manicured, and the callouses on her hands seemed fresh. New. The vest fit like a glove. “There. Now you have a bit of support for your breasts, and you don’t have to feel quite as naked.” The captain said, adding a smile at the end. The girl returned the smile.

“Thank you, Captain. I’ll take my leave now.” She had returned to her false Therin accent for the time being. Zamira couldn’t help but think that it was better than before as she turned to leave.

“Wait, girl. What’s your name?” She asked. The Nicoran paused, as if to think up an alias for a moment.

“Delmastro. Ezri Delmastro.” She said this in her Therin accent as well. Zamira nodded. Whoever she was in Nicora was now a distant memory, as she was now Ezri Delmastro, a Therin pirate on the Sea of Brass.

“I have a feeling you’ll do well aboard this ship, Ezri.” Drakasha said. Ezri smiled and nodded once before slipping out of the cabin.

+

That night, Lieutenant Oviedo Drakasha lay with his wife in their hammock, dark, naked skin glistening with sweat as they kissed slowly.

“The Vadran you pushed overboard today, Mira,” He began, spurring the woman who was both his wife and captain to sigh loudly in exasperation.

“Must we speak of Vadran perverts during the afterglow?” She groaned, shifting so her face rested upon his chest where she placed a small kiss.

“He was a pervert then?” Oviedo asked, lazily tracing a finger across the curve of her hips, up to her waist and back down again.

“He tried to touch the young girl in the Scrub Watch. She was too frightened to come down from her post at the mast checking the sheet bend knots that hold the sails.” She murmured. Oviedo nodded.

“That child will need someone to look out for her. Perhaps if she makes it beyond the scrub watch, she could be my lieutenant’s apprentice.” He mused. Zamira grinned as she looked up at her husband.

“You’ve been talking about taking somebody under your wing and training them for two years now. Do you really think you’ll finally do it?” She asked, smile wide. Oviedo grinned as he shrugged.

“Most likely. We’ll just have to see once she gets off the scrub watch.” The Drakashas kissed then, long and slow, and were then once again occupied in each other’s arms for some time to think about discussing the matter any further.


End file.
